Buffy watched Rupert walk away until he was completely out of sight. She
listened to his heart beating, the distance not disrupting its volume or
rhythm. When she was satisfied that it would remain with her whether she
could see him or not, Buffy turned and walked upstairs, still oblivious to
Willow's surprised expression.
Willow turned to follow Buffy upstairs, intent on getting answers and asking lots of questions, but Tara's voice beckoned her to the kitchen.
"Willow? Can you come here?"
"Yeah, I'll be right there." She lingered at the foot of the stairs for a moment, but faithful that she would get her explanation soon enough, Willow relented and walked back towards the kitchen. She stood and watched Tara from the kitchen doorway for a moment, thinking about the possibility of Buffy and Giles.
Tara was surveying the refrigerator, and before Willow had even announced her presence or made a noise, Tara was talking to her, "So, did you get any dirt on Buffy and Giles?"
"How do you do that?" Willow walked up behind Tara and wrapped her arms around the curvy blonde's waist and rested her head on the other girl's shoulder.
Tara leaned her head towards Willow's so that their foreheads were touching. "Do what?"
"Know that I'm around without seeing me. Even in a crowded place, you know if I'm there."
"I don't exactly know. I've just always been able to recognize people that way." Tara moved away and shut the door to the refrigerator, she held up a pitcher in offering to Willow, "It looks like Giles dropped off some breakfast stuff this morning. Do you want some orange juice?"
"No, I want some answers." At Tara's confused look, Willow quickly explained herself, "About that whole Buffy/Giles scene that just played out. Was that weird? 'Cause I sensed weirdness."
Turning to get a glass out of the cupboard, Tara considered the earlier scene, "Yeah, that was strange. There was a lot of weird energy there. Their auras were spinning the same way."
Willow leaned forward onto the island, resting her chin in her hands as she watched Tara pour the orange juice into the glass.
"That's what I mean," when Tara smiled at Willow's comment and Willow flustered, "Well, not the auras spinning 'cause that's your thing, but the vibe and the lack of clothes was out of character."
Tara smirked, "Open shirts and robes not standard Watcher/Slayer uniforms?"
Willow hopped up from her slouching position, her eyes sparkling mischievously, "I know, it had that 'morning after' feeling to it. You think there were Buffy/Giles smoochies?"
Surprised, Tara spilled some orange juice, "Willow! Really, I doubt it's like that. I mean, Joyce just died and Mr. Giles and Buffy are close. It's got to be hard enough for them without our speculation about smoochies."
"Oh, you're just as bad as I am." Willow paused and sighed, "So, you're thinking grief, not smoochies?"
"Yeah, well, the energy was strong, whatever it was and it wouldn't be weird for them to be sharing their grief that way. Their auras have always been kinda similar anyway." Tara's face was set very seriously as she wiped up the spilled juice.
Willow looked down at the counter and traced imaginary circles with her finger as a smile crept over her face, "Are you sure it wasn't, like, sexual energy?"
"I don't know, maybe." And with her familiar knowing smile, Tara goosed Willow as she put the orange juice back in the 'fridge.
Somewhat shocked by Tara's grab Willow swatted at her girlfriend.
"Hey guys, how's it going?" Dawn had crept in quietly enough that neither Tara or Willow had noticed her, and she was very aware of what the two witches had been discussing, "So, I guess you guys found out about Buffy and Giles."
Willow tried to play it off, "W-what do you mean, Dawn?"
"It's okay, Willow, I know that they're together. I didn't think they'd have told you so soon, I mean just this morning they were like 'Don't say anything, Dawn, we don't know where this is going.' " Dawn rolled her eyes, "I mean, jeeze, make up your mind all ready!"
Willow practically pounced over the island to be closer to Dawn, "You mean they are, I mean, I thought maybe, but not really and Tara said that their auras were spinning, but…really?
"You mean they didn't say anything to you?" As both Tara and Willow shook their heads, Dawn rolled her eyes and sighed, "Great, I really can't keep a secret. You guys can't tell anyone else."
Tara walked over to join Willow and Dawn, "Well, who else knows, Dawn?"
"You guys, me, Buffy and Giles, obviously, and Angel."
Willow gasped, "Angel? I'm her best friend and she told her ex-boyfriend before she told me?"
Dawn looked sheepishly at Willow, "I think he found out by accident, too."
"Oh, well, feelings less hurt, then. But only Anya and Xander are out of the loop?"
"Yeah, and you can't tell them either, or I'll really catch it from Buffy!" The pleading look on Dawn's face quickly elicited nods of agreement from Willow and Tara.
Willow looked between the others and said, "Can you imagine Xander's reaction? He'll freak!"
Tara half-smiled, "Yeah, but, I don't know… I mean you guys are taking this really well… Not that I wouldn't expect you to, but…"
"But what?" Willow looked at her girlfriend expectantly.
"Well, it is weird, isn't it? I mean, Dawn, your mom just passed away and unless this had been going on a lot longer than we think, m-maybe we all, not just Buffy and Giles, but all of us, are distracting ourselves."
"Tara! Wha- "
"Willow, I'm just trying to bring some perspective. People do weird things in their grief, and we could end up going along just for the sake of dealing with something else and not upsetting anyone more than they already are."
"Tara, Buffy reacting that way I can understand… but Giles? I don't think that he'd do something like that. I don't think he'd use Buffy that way," Willow glanced over at Dawn," And should we really be talking about comfort S-E-X in front of D-A-W-N?"
"I'm fourteen, Willow, not retarded."
An audible gasp came from the dining room, quickly followed by the sound of running on the stairs caused the three young women to take pause, and as realization dawned on them, Willow started to cry. "Oh, no! Buffy! She heard!"
********
Buffy stood in front of her closet, not realizing how difficult it was to choose what to wear to a memorial for her mother. Black, while appropriate for mourning, seemed too sad and clichéd. Brown or beige, while neutrals, were too much like dirt and equaled burial, so less thoughts of dirt, the better. Pastels seemed too… pastel. Red,? No. Blue? No. Orange? No… Orange? Since when do I own anything orange? And why am I doing this stupid fashonista thing? How horrible am I?
Crying, Buffy pulled a black tank top and jeans out of her closet and threw them on, along with a pair of sneakers. She'd worry about getting dressed for the memorial later. Walking out into the upstairs hallway, she saw that Dawn had gotten up, and she could hear voices downstairs. As she headed down the stairs, the voices became more distinct and it sounded like Tara was talking, in earnest. As Buffy rounded the corner into the dining room, she could hear the conversation clearly.
"…trying to bring some perspective. People do weird things in their grief, and we could end up going along just for the sake of dealing with something else and trying not to upset anyone more than they already are."
Buffy froze in the dining room, just out of sight of the kitchen, and her skin pricked at the tone of Tara's voice.
"Tara, Buffy reacting that way I can understand… but Giles? I don't think that he'd do something like that. I don't think he'd use Buffy that way," Willow glanced over at Dawn," And should we really be talking about comfort S-E-X in front of D-A-W-N?"
Buffy gasped, and her hand flew up to her mouth, the tears she had just gotten control over came back with ferocity. She turned and ran back upstairs to her room as quickly as she could.
She could hear her friends and sister calling and chasing after her as she slammed her bedroom door. Her heart was racing; she was panicked and she couldn't deal with them right now. She threw open her bedroom window and, for the first time since she had graduated from high school, Buffy snuck out through her bedroom window.
As she ran down the street, she heard Giles' heartbeat matching her own, and immediately changed her direction so that she was headed towards his apartment.
********
Rupert took an ice pack out of his freezer and placed it along his tender jaw. All of their training had been worth it. Buffy had improved in her fighting posture, she had stopped leading her punches with her shoulder, and so he hadn't seen her strike coming. Not that it would have made a difference either way, because in a heated moment like that his reflexes were no match for hers. Emotions sharpened her senses and dulled his, Rupert sighed. "That's why things are a muddle."
He wandered over to his dining table, sat heavily and cracked open the Watcher's Diary, his eyes squinting over the text while his mind was elsewhere. He would have to figure out what to do about this situation, but somehow didn't feel any motivation. The ever-present thumping sound of her heartbeat hadn't grown any weaker since he had left the Buffy's house and it throbbed in time with his face. He felt like a twisted man, with all his worry placed on his Slayer and no thought of those that had died.
No, not 'those' – 'she' that has died. And 'she' would not approve of my involvement with her daughter. Rupert and Joyce had a mutual respect and affection for the other, precipitated by the other's prioritization of Buffy. They had partnered in Buffy's survival. But it would be foolish for him to pretend she would approve of his becoming romantically involved with Buffy. She deserves a memorial and my absolute respect. He knew what he needed to do to ease his mind.
Rupert sighed, abandoned the timeworn volume and walked over to the breakfast bar. The bottle of scotch was already out, an old-fashioned glass smeared with fingerprints sitting ready beside it. As he tossed the ice pack into the sink, Giles considered the bottle briefly, but knew it was a slippery slope at best and not the safest route for him to take in his grief and confusion. A drunk Watcher was not what Buffy needed, so he would have to wait to take his bender. Instead of pouring himself into the bottle he walked over into the kitchen and pulled out a tarnished silver tea tin from the cabinet above the stove.
Rupert Giles wasn't above partaking now and again, but he hadn't since that night. The dried up, half-smoked joint was tucked inside of the tea tin, just where he had stashed it a little over two years ago. He walked over to his record collection, pulled out an album and carefully slid the record out of the cover and placed it on the turntable. He put the needle onto the record and listened. When had he last listened to this record? The Band Candy incident. That night of irresponsible behavior had been fun.
He sat down on his couch and as he lit the joint and took the first toke, the song he remembered listening to with Joyce came on and he let himself miss her and grieve for her, the tears falling unnoticed as he choked on the pungent smoke. He took another hit, hoping to get as high as he could, as quickly as he could, so that he could rest. He almost immediately began to feel his heart, and heard Buffy's, begin to race. He took a few deep slow breaths to help lessen the effects, but it did no good. As he lifted the joint to his lips for another hit, his door burst open and, surprised, Giles dropped the burning thing in his lap.
"Damn!" Swatting at the now destroyed but still burning joint, Giles leapt up from the couch and turned around. "Buffy?" He saw her tears and ragged breathing, "What's wrong? Has something happened?" She ran past him as he moved to shut the door.
"Giles, they know! They know about us!"
"Who? What?" He walked over to the shaking girl and embraced her. "Buffy, please calm down, tell me: what's happened?"
"Giles, I don't know, I came downstairs and they were all in the kitchen talking about us, they know. They think it's wrong. They think there's something wrong with us!"
Giles felt his world melting; he moved over to the couch and sank heavily, cradling his head in his hands.
"Giles," Buffy sat next to him, "I panicked. I didn't know what else to do, so I came here."
She paused and wrinkled her nose, "What's that smell? Is that pot? Giles, were you smoking pot?"
He sighed, "Yes, I was. To take the edge off."
"Drugs? Giles, I can't believe – "
"Buffy, it was that or the scotch and you know how I am when I drink. Would you prefer I take my bender now or later?"
Scooting closer to him, Buffy put her hand on his thigh, "I'd prefer you didn't take one at all."
He looked into her eyes and realized that it wasn't disappointment or anger there, but sadness and worry. For him, and it moved him deeply. "Oh, Buffy," he took her in his arms, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to worry you."
"I can't help it. Why do you do this to yourself? Can't we share this pain?" She rested her head on his chest.
"Buffy, I want to be able to, I thought you didn't want the bond, that knowing you so closely was too painful for you." Their heartbeats had slowed to a steadier rhythm, and Buffy raised her face to him, her eyes open wide and her lower lip trembling.
"It is painful. But we have to work through it together or it's even more painful alone." Rupert leaned down to still her lips with his own, but stopped short to look at her, more aware than before of the enormity of what they were undertaking.
"Buffy, I won't go any further unless you really want me to. Unless you really want me, unless you really love me."
As Buffy closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss him, she whispered, "How can we go farther than we already have? I'm here."
You thought the leaden winter
Would bring you down forever
But you rode upon a steamer
To the violence of the sun
And the colors of the sea
Blind your eyes with trembling mermaids
And you touch the distant beaches
With tales of brave Ulysses
How his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing
For the sparkling waves are calling you
To kiss their white lace legs
And you see your girl's brown body
Dancing through the turquoise
And her footprints make you follow
Where the sky loves the sea
And when your fingers find her
She drowns you in her body
Carving deep blue ripples
In the tissues of your mind
And tiny purple fishes
Run laughing through your fingers
And you want to take her with you
To the hard land of the winter
Her name is Aphrodite
And she rides a crimson shell
And you know you cannot leave her
For you touched the distant sands
With tales of brave Ulysses
How his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing
And tiny purple fishes
Run laughing through your fingers
And you want to take her with you
To the hard land of the winter
"Tales of Brave Ulysses" – Cream
Willow turned to follow Buffy upstairs, intent on getting answers and asking lots of questions, but Tara's voice beckoned her to the kitchen.
"Willow? Can you come here?"
"Yeah, I'll be right there." She lingered at the foot of the stairs for a moment, but faithful that she would get her explanation soon enough, Willow relented and walked back towards the kitchen. She stood and watched Tara from the kitchen doorway for a moment, thinking about the possibility of Buffy and Giles.
Tara was surveying the refrigerator, and before Willow had even announced her presence or made a noise, Tara was talking to her, "So, did you get any dirt on Buffy and Giles?"
"How do you do that?" Willow walked up behind Tara and wrapped her arms around the curvy blonde's waist and rested her head on the other girl's shoulder.
Tara leaned her head towards Willow's so that their foreheads were touching. "Do what?"
"Know that I'm around without seeing me. Even in a crowded place, you know if I'm there."
"I don't exactly know. I've just always been able to recognize people that way." Tara moved away and shut the door to the refrigerator, she held up a pitcher in offering to Willow, "It looks like Giles dropped off some breakfast stuff this morning. Do you want some orange juice?"
"No, I want some answers." At Tara's confused look, Willow quickly explained herself, "About that whole Buffy/Giles scene that just played out. Was that weird? 'Cause I sensed weirdness."
Turning to get a glass out of the cupboard, Tara considered the earlier scene, "Yeah, that was strange. There was a lot of weird energy there. Their auras were spinning the same way."
Willow leaned forward onto the island, resting her chin in her hands as she watched Tara pour the orange juice into the glass.
"That's what I mean," when Tara smiled at Willow's comment and Willow flustered, "Well, not the auras spinning 'cause that's your thing, but the vibe and the lack of clothes was out of character."
Tara smirked, "Open shirts and robes not standard Watcher/Slayer uniforms?"
Willow hopped up from her slouching position, her eyes sparkling mischievously, "I know, it had that 'morning after' feeling to it. You think there were Buffy/Giles smoochies?"
Surprised, Tara spilled some orange juice, "Willow! Really, I doubt it's like that. I mean, Joyce just died and Mr. Giles and Buffy are close. It's got to be hard enough for them without our speculation about smoochies."
"Oh, you're just as bad as I am." Willow paused and sighed, "So, you're thinking grief, not smoochies?"
"Yeah, well, the energy was strong, whatever it was and it wouldn't be weird for them to be sharing their grief that way. Their auras have always been kinda similar anyway." Tara's face was set very seriously as she wiped up the spilled juice.
Willow looked down at the counter and traced imaginary circles with her finger as a smile crept over her face, "Are you sure it wasn't, like, sexual energy?"
"I don't know, maybe." And with her familiar knowing smile, Tara goosed Willow as she put the orange juice back in the 'fridge.
Somewhat shocked by Tara's grab Willow swatted at her girlfriend.
"Hey guys, how's it going?" Dawn had crept in quietly enough that neither Tara or Willow had noticed her, and she was very aware of what the two witches had been discussing, "So, I guess you guys found out about Buffy and Giles."
Willow tried to play it off, "W-what do you mean, Dawn?"
"It's okay, Willow, I know that they're together. I didn't think they'd have told you so soon, I mean just this morning they were like 'Don't say anything, Dawn, we don't know where this is going.' " Dawn rolled her eyes, "I mean, jeeze, make up your mind all ready!"
Willow practically pounced over the island to be closer to Dawn, "You mean they are, I mean, I thought maybe, but not really and Tara said that their auras were spinning, but…really?
"You mean they didn't say anything to you?" As both Tara and Willow shook their heads, Dawn rolled her eyes and sighed, "Great, I really can't keep a secret. You guys can't tell anyone else."
Tara walked over to join Willow and Dawn, "Well, who else knows, Dawn?"
"You guys, me, Buffy and Giles, obviously, and Angel."
Willow gasped, "Angel? I'm her best friend and she told her ex-boyfriend before she told me?"
Dawn looked sheepishly at Willow, "I think he found out by accident, too."
"Oh, well, feelings less hurt, then. But only Anya and Xander are out of the loop?"
"Yeah, and you can't tell them either, or I'll really catch it from Buffy!" The pleading look on Dawn's face quickly elicited nods of agreement from Willow and Tara.
Willow looked between the others and said, "Can you imagine Xander's reaction? He'll freak!"
Tara half-smiled, "Yeah, but, I don't know… I mean you guys are taking this really well… Not that I wouldn't expect you to, but…"
"But what?" Willow looked at her girlfriend expectantly.
"Well, it is weird, isn't it? I mean, Dawn, your mom just passed away and unless this had been going on a lot longer than we think, m-maybe we all, not just Buffy and Giles, but all of us, are distracting ourselves."
"Tara! Wha- "
"Willow, I'm just trying to bring some perspective. People do weird things in their grief, and we could end up going along just for the sake of dealing with something else and not upsetting anyone more than they already are."
"Tara, Buffy reacting that way I can understand… but Giles? I don't think that he'd do something like that. I don't think he'd use Buffy that way," Willow glanced over at Dawn," And should we really be talking about comfort S-E-X in front of D-A-W-N?"
"I'm fourteen, Willow, not retarded."
An audible gasp came from the dining room, quickly followed by the sound of running on the stairs caused the three young women to take pause, and as realization dawned on them, Willow started to cry. "Oh, no! Buffy! She heard!"
********
Buffy stood in front of her closet, not realizing how difficult it was to choose what to wear to a memorial for her mother. Black, while appropriate for mourning, seemed too sad and clichéd. Brown or beige, while neutrals, were too much like dirt and equaled burial, so less thoughts of dirt, the better. Pastels seemed too… pastel. Red,? No. Blue? No. Orange? No… Orange? Since when do I own anything orange? And why am I doing this stupid fashonista thing? How horrible am I?
Crying, Buffy pulled a black tank top and jeans out of her closet and threw them on, along with a pair of sneakers. She'd worry about getting dressed for the memorial later. Walking out into the upstairs hallway, she saw that Dawn had gotten up, and she could hear voices downstairs. As she headed down the stairs, the voices became more distinct and it sounded like Tara was talking, in earnest. As Buffy rounded the corner into the dining room, she could hear the conversation clearly.
"…trying to bring some perspective. People do weird things in their grief, and we could end up going along just for the sake of dealing with something else and trying not to upset anyone more than they already are."
Buffy froze in the dining room, just out of sight of the kitchen, and her skin pricked at the tone of Tara's voice.
"Tara, Buffy reacting that way I can understand… but Giles? I don't think that he'd do something like that. I don't think he'd use Buffy that way," Willow glanced over at Dawn," And should we really be talking about comfort S-E-X in front of D-A-W-N?"
Buffy gasped, and her hand flew up to her mouth, the tears she had just gotten control over came back with ferocity. She turned and ran back upstairs to her room as quickly as she could.
She could hear her friends and sister calling and chasing after her as she slammed her bedroom door. Her heart was racing; she was panicked and she couldn't deal with them right now. She threw open her bedroom window and, for the first time since she had graduated from high school, Buffy snuck out through her bedroom window.
As she ran down the street, she heard Giles' heartbeat matching her own, and immediately changed her direction so that she was headed towards his apartment.
********
Rupert took an ice pack out of his freezer and placed it along his tender jaw. All of their training had been worth it. Buffy had improved in her fighting posture, she had stopped leading her punches with her shoulder, and so he hadn't seen her strike coming. Not that it would have made a difference either way, because in a heated moment like that his reflexes were no match for hers. Emotions sharpened her senses and dulled his, Rupert sighed. "That's why things are a muddle."
He wandered over to his dining table, sat heavily and cracked open the Watcher's Diary, his eyes squinting over the text while his mind was elsewhere. He would have to figure out what to do about this situation, but somehow didn't feel any motivation. The ever-present thumping sound of her heartbeat hadn't grown any weaker since he had left the Buffy's house and it throbbed in time with his face. He felt like a twisted man, with all his worry placed on his Slayer and no thought of those that had died.
No, not 'those' – 'she' that has died. And 'she' would not approve of my involvement with her daughter. Rupert and Joyce had a mutual respect and affection for the other, precipitated by the other's prioritization of Buffy. They had partnered in Buffy's survival. But it would be foolish for him to pretend she would approve of his becoming romantically involved with Buffy. She deserves a memorial and my absolute respect. He knew what he needed to do to ease his mind.
Rupert sighed, abandoned the timeworn volume and walked over to the breakfast bar. The bottle of scotch was already out, an old-fashioned glass smeared with fingerprints sitting ready beside it. As he tossed the ice pack into the sink, Giles considered the bottle briefly, but knew it was a slippery slope at best and not the safest route for him to take in his grief and confusion. A drunk Watcher was not what Buffy needed, so he would have to wait to take his bender. Instead of pouring himself into the bottle he walked over into the kitchen and pulled out a tarnished silver tea tin from the cabinet above the stove.
Rupert Giles wasn't above partaking now and again, but he hadn't since that night. The dried up, half-smoked joint was tucked inside of the tea tin, just where he had stashed it a little over two years ago. He walked over to his record collection, pulled out an album and carefully slid the record out of the cover and placed it on the turntable. He put the needle onto the record and listened. When had he last listened to this record? The Band Candy incident. That night of irresponsible behavior had been fun.
He sat down on his couch and as he lit the joint and took the first toke, the song he remembered listening to with Joyce came on and he let himself miss her and grieve for her, the tears falling unnoticed as he choked on the pungent smoke. He took another hit, hoping to get as high as he could, as quickly as he could, so that he could rest. He almost immediately began to feel his heart, and heard Buffy's, begin to race. He took a few deep slow breaths to help lessen the effects, but it did no good. As he lifted the joint to his lips for another hit, his door burst open and, surprised, Giles dropped the burning thing in his lap.
"Damn!" Swatting at the now destroyed but still burning joint, Giles leapt up from the couch and turned around. "Buffy?" He saw her tears and ragged breathing, "What's wrong? Has something happened?" She ran past him as he moved to shut the door.
"Giles, they know! They know about us!"
"Who? What?" He walked over to the shaking girl and embraced her. "Buffy, please calm down, tell me: what's happened?"
"Giles, I don't know, I came downstairs and they were all in the kitchen talking about us, they know. They think it's wrong. They think there's something wrong with us!"
Giles felt his world melting; he moved over to the couch and sank heavily, cradling his head in his hands.
"Giles," Buffy sat next to him, "I panicked. I didn't know what else to do, so I came here."
She paused and wrinkled her nose, "What's that smell? Is that pot? Giles, were you smoking pot?"
He sighed, "Yes, I was. To take the edge off."
"Drugs? Giles, I can't believe – "
"Buffy, it was that or the scotch and you know how I am when I drink. Would you prefer I take my bender now or later?"
Scooting closer to him, Buffy put her hand on his thigh, "I'd prefer you didn't take one at all."
He looked into her eyes and realized that it wasn't disappointment or anger there, but sadness and worry. For him, and it moved him deeply. "Oh, Buffy," he took her in his arms, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to worry you."
"I can't help it. Why do you do this to yourself? Can't we share this pain?" She rested her head on his chest.
"Buffy, I want to be able to, I thought you didn't want the bond, that knowing you so closely was too painful for you." Their heartbeats had slowed to a steadier rhythm, and Buffy raised her face to him, her eyes open wide and her lower lip trembling.
"It is painful. But we have to work through it together or it's even more painful alone." Rupert leaned down to still her lips with his own, but stopped short to look at her, more aware than before of the enormity of what they were undertaking.
"Buffy, I won't go any further unless you really want me to. Unless you really want me, unless you really love me."
As Buffy closed her eyes and leaned in to kiss him, she whispered, "How can we go farther than we already have? I'm here."
You thought the leaden winter
Would bring you down forever
But you rode upon a steamer
To the violence of the sun
And the colors of the sea
Blind your eyes with trembling mermaids
And you touch the distant beaches
With tales of brave Ulysses
How his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing
For the sparkling waves are calling you
To kiss their white lace legs
And you see your girl's brown body
Dancing through the turquoise
And her footprints make you follow
Where the sky loves the sea
And when your fingers find her
She drowns you in her body
Carving deep blue ripples
In the tissues of your mind
And tiny purple fishes
Run laughing through your fingers
And you want to take her with you
To the hard land of the winter
Her name is Aphrodite
And she rides a crimson shell
And you know you cannot leave her
For you touched the distant sands
With tales of brave Ulysses
How his naked ears were tortured
By the sirens sweetly singing
And tiny purple fishes
Run laughing through your fingers
And you want to take her with you
To the hard land of the winter
"Tales of Brave Ulysses" – Cream